A Sticky Wicket
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: What happens when the Royal Butler takes over Downton Abbey ahead of the King and Queen's visit? Nothing good as far as Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes are concerned. Based on the two Downton Abbey movie stills of Charles & Elsie in their garden at the cottage.


**A Sticky Wicket**

He heard his wild Scottish dragon long before he ever saw her. Her heavy footsteps crunched against the gravel of the path leading up to their cottage. As if that wasn't enough to alert him to her early arrival, her barely contained mutterings, sprinkled with a healthy dose of Gaelic, caused him to pause, gardening trowel still in hand, and stand perfectly still and ramrod straight. Some instincts were never forgotten, and years of being the butler of Downton Abbey had trained him well.

Silently, he watched as she struggled with the little latch on the gate … the one he had been meaning to repair, the one she had reminded him about on more than one occasion. He quickly bumped that little household chore to the top of his "to do" list for the following morning. When she forcefully closed the gate behind her, she took a deep breath, looked towards the heavens, and exhaled … rather loudly … through her mouth with a prolonged huff. And then she turned her attention towards the cottage and the sight of her husband.

He tried to put a bright smile on his face, but years of experience taught him that her mood was not to be taken lightly, and his words should be chosen with the utmost care.

"Hello, lo …"

"Charles Ernest Carson!" His name tumbled from her lips quickly, though thankfully without the venom he had overheard just seconds before. "Did I not tell you that I was going to weed that part of the flower beds? It was something I had planned to do on my next half day, or do you not think I can do that properly?"

Charles looked down at the trowel in his hand and raised his eyebrows as high as they would go. He wasn't sure what had prompted her foul mood, but it certainly had nothing to do with him or the gardening. Whatever caused … _**this**_ … had happened long before she reached home. And, apparently, the walk from work to their cottage only allowed her more time to replay the events of the day.

"Hello, love," he said calmly.

"Are you going to answer me?" she asked, clearly exasperated already.

"No."

He waited with baited breath, praying his simple reply was enough to take a bit of the wind from her sails. Surely, she wouldn't be expecting a single word reply from him given the state of her mood. She was spoiling for an argument, and he was not inclined to indulge her.

She pursed her lips together and stared at him for a long moment, the only noises to be heard were those of the birds singing happily and the rustling of the gentle wind through the trees, a welcomed cooling breeze to help diffuse the charged atmosphere. "Very well. I'll be inside. At least I can be useful in there. There's dinner to prepare and cleaning to do."

She made to walk by him when he stilled her with a gentle hand on her arm, his touch so soft it almost wasn't there. "Not to further anger the dragon, and at the risk of learning how uncomfortable our sofa is tonight, but you'll find that I've done the washing up, the sheets have been changed, though you'll likely want to check those corners, and I thought we might have sandwiches tonight instead of something heavy. I bought some fresh bread this morning and some ham and pickles from the market before I picked up the post, then started out here."

"Wonderful! Just wonderful. I am useless at the abbey and even in my own home. I suppose there's a rug or two I could beat or some dusting to be done. Surely, you haven't had time to fit those in to your busy day. From the sound of it, you've been more productive here than I am at the house. I'm certain there has to be something that needs doing, so I might as well go in search of it."

Charles put the trowel in the wheelbarrow and slipped his fingertips down her arm until he could lace his fingers with hers. "Or, you could tell me what's got you so upset. That might be a nice start and would make this evening a little easier on both of us." He gave her hand a small squeeze of reassurance. "Who knows? I might be able to help in some way, or at the very least, let you get all of this out of your mind."

She looked down at their joined hands and realized just how harsh she had been with him. None of this was his fault, and he didn't deserve her wrath. No, that she would reserve for Thomas and that man who called himself a butler. Her butler … her Charlie … would never have behaved as those two. A small part of her dreaded rehashing the day with him, fearful of getting herself riled up once more. She was fairly certain he would be irate once she finished her story. But a bigger part of herself, the part that belonged to Charlie … that part couldn't wait to tell him every single detail. Decades of working side by side, sharing every big and small event, and the satisfaction of sharing the frustration with each other came rushing back. The saying "joys doubled, burdens halved" came to mind and suddenly she was feeling less angry and more willing to explain herself, to tell her side of things to the one person in the world who would understand and, more importantly, be on her side.

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I should never had been so rude to you. None of this was your fault, and it was lovely of you to tend to all those chores and the gardening. If you'll let me go inside and change clothes, I'd like to come out and help you finish up. It's the least I can do. It might actually do me some good to get my hands a little dirty."

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss there then touched the back of her hand to his cheek. "Take as long as you like, but I think I'm done gardening for the day. I believe what's needed is a brisk walk and a nice chat along the way. So, you take some time for yourself, and when you're ready, we'll set off." He looked into her fierce, blue eyes and watched as they softened even more … no longer resembling the grey storm clouds that often foretold a fierce force of nature looming on the horizon.

"I love you so much," she said softly, her voice cracking just a little as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "I won't be long."

Charles watched Elsie as she entered the cottage before he quickly began to pack away his gardening tools. She had certainly piqued his curiosity, and for her to still be this irate over something work related, he could only surmise that it was rather big. She'd told him of the plans for the King and Queen visiting, and he had to admit he was more than a little jealous of Thomas … Mr. Barrow now. But, he had wrestled with those demons and was content to merely be a means of support in the shadows, if only to ensure that nothing went wrong that could embarrass the family. However, from the brief conversation with his wife and her early arrival at their cottage, he was growing more and more concerned about the big day.

With everything stored away, Charles sat on the swing in their garden and made a few mental lists, some pertaining to the house and chores while others were checklists for Mr. Barrow. There were so many things to oversee, things he most likely had not even considered, and that gave Charles even more reasons for concern.

"Ready when you are, Charlie, though if you'd like to stay here, we can sit on the swing and talk."

He reached out and drew her closer to him until she was standing between his legs, his hands resting firmly but gently on her hips. He raised his head up and closed his eyes. "I think I deserve a hello kiss after the greeting I received earlier," he said with a tease and a little pat to her bottom.

"You mean you didn't appreciate sending a blushing bride off to work only to have a dragon returned to you a mere few hours later?" She ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to give him a firm kiss to his lips, silencing him before he could answer her question.

"Let's take that walk. You can tell me everything, and then we can come home, make a quick dinner, and then round out the evening with wine and a few hands of cards."

"Not sure I'd be much company for cards tonight, though I won't say no to the wine and a cuddle, if that is an option."

He took her hand in his and pulled her along the path towards the tricky gate. "That, love, is always an option available to you," he said with an added wink and a bump of his hip against hers. "And before you chide me once more, I swear I will repair the latch on this gate tomorrow … come rain or shine!"

"Wait until you hear what happened today and your plans for tomorrow may change. According to the almighty butler of Buckingham Palace and our very own Thomas … still finding his feet in this new position … Barrow … I'm in the way!"

Charles stopped walking and his carefree attitude and smile were replaced with a look she had rarely ever seen on his face. Only once, when Mr. Branson had threatened to pour slop over a man's head, had she seen anything to really rival the look he now had. "THEY SAID WHAT?"

"I can teach you a few Gaelic swear words if that will help, but let me tell you the whole story first." She tugged on his arm, and they started down the tree lined pathway, enjoying the shade from the tree canopy as she began to enlighten him about the events of her day.

Her recount of the incidents began with the butler and the palace staff entering the house through the front doors of Downton Abbey, something which surprised even the most junior hall boy. From there, she told how the pompous man had inspected every single room, criticizing as he went along, barking orders for things that would need to be changed, passing a critical eye over all of her maids and the footmen, and finally commandeering the butler's pantry for his own personal use while at the house.

"He did not seem pleased with anything he saw, though I can tell you that every surface in that house was gleaming and sparkling long before they arrived. My maids and the footmen had seen to that."

"And what of Thomas? What was his role in all of this?"

She scoffed and shook her head. "Not much, that's for sure. He was caught off guard from the moment the car pulled in to the driveway. The butler was in the house before Thomas ever had a chance to get everyone upstairs and outside. He trailed after them and allowed them full run of the house before any of us even knew what was happening."

"Full run of the house? Has he lost his mind? This is his one chance to shine, to actually step up to the plate and earn his title, and he allows someone else to come in and take over without so much as a pause in the conversation?"

Elsie nodded her head and encouraged Charlie to continue walking, despite his shock and bewilderment. "And it only got worse, if you can believe it."

"I am not sure I can, but continue." He stopped long enough to pluck a few wildflowers from the side of the road and handed them to Elsie with a quick kiss to her cheek.

A pretty blush colored her cheeks, and she paused in her tale long enough to thank him and to smell the flowers before continuing.

"The kitchen was taken over by Their Majesties personal chef, leaving Mrs. Patmore none too happy, as you can imagine. And when he demanded the key to the storeroom cupboard, that's when things began to get a bit tetchy."

"I'll just bet it did, love. I've seen and heard you and Mrs. Patmore rowing over that key for decades. I would bet a large sum of money that you didn't give it up quietly."

She barked out a laugh and tossed her head back proudly. "I still have it, thank you very much. That chef may run things in London, but here I am Housekeeper of Downton Abbey and the housekeeper always holds the key to the storeroom cupboard. If I won't relinquish it to my friend, I certainly have no intentions of giving that power to someone I don't even know, regardless of their boorish attitudes and royal titles."

Charles couldn't help the belly laugh that shook his entire body. "Part of me is horrified that you even had to have that confrontation and another part of me wishes I'd been there to see it for myself. I mean, he is the chef to the King and Queen, love."

"Yes, and whether they needed special ingredients or something basic, I would have happily cooperated and provided it for them. However, by the time they reached us downstairs, it was our last stronghold, and I wasn't going to give it up that easily. Besides, it was all I could do to keep Mrs. Patmore's temper under control and to keep Thomas from handing over all the keys to the house and wine cellar."

"Oh my GOD! He didn't allow them in the cellar, did he? We have some rare bottles stored down there and, I can just predict that our supplies will be depleted by the end of the first night! If he allowed that butler such a liberty …"

"Don't worry, love. Your wine legacy is safe … for now. Of course, who knows what will happen since I'm not there this evening, though I told Mrs. Patmore to phone the cottage if I'm needed to return."

As they rounded the bend in the road, Charles directed Elsie off the path and towards the little pond they both enjoyed visiting. "I think I'd better sit down for the rest of this. No wonder you were in such a mood when you got to the house this afternoon."

They settled on the bank and watched a pair of swans teaching their cygnets the finer points of swimming, enjoying the peacefulness of the scene and atmosphere. Elsie knew that Charles would need to be a little calmer before she told the rest of her tale, so she nestled against his side and rested her head on his shoulder. "This is lovely, and just what I needed after today. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet. You still owe me the rest of the story, and I'm assuming you wanted the atmosphere around me to clear a little before you got to the worst of it." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and rested his cheek there before speaking. "In your own time, love."

She waited several moments, organizing her thoughts, before she continued. "The chef, the butler, and the other staff members from London took over the rest of the house. That was something Thomas should have addressed immediately, but he didn't. By the time I knew what was happening, everyone was hustling and bustling about and trying to steer clear of the London butler. However, when they started issuing orders and yelling at Anna, Miss Baxter, Daisy, and the rest of them, I drew a line in the sand."

"I'll bet you did. I've been on the receiving end of one or two of those tongue lashings, and it's not a fun place to be … and we were the best of friends. I can't even begin to picture the ire you unleashed."

"I did try to cooperate and be polite. That's what a good housekeeper would do, but sometimes things cannot be overlooked. So, as he was telling my maids what they would be doing in preparation for the royal visit and how bedding needed to be laundered, rooms inspected, and the lot, I stepped in."

Elsie proceeded to recount her story, as closely to verbatim as she could remember, ending with the royal butler yelling at her to "stay out of my way," and then advising Thomas to send her home so she would have time to "adjust and conform to the current situation.""

Charles sat speechless. Regardless of his love and devotion for the woman snuggled against his side, his overwhelming need to protect her from every harm, and his complete admiration for her professional accomplishments, he was appalled by the behavior of everyone involved … aside from her. "You know I'm a loyal subject of the crown, Elsie, more than most, but his behavior is unacceptable. No good butler, regardless of the household, should barge in to another house and make demands or give orders. And Thomas … he will get an earful from me first thing in the morning."

Elsie patted Charles's leg and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "I would love to know what His Lordship had to say on the matter. I left before they returned from the Dower house, and the ladies were in Ripon for the final fittings for their new dresses. They were supposed to be back in time for dinner, which I am assuming our staff would oversee. I cannot imagine serving at the table of a Lord and Lady would appeal much to the high and mighty royal pain."

"No, it would be highly irregular for him to even entertain that notion, though an hour ago, I would have never believed that someone of his standing would barge in to an unfamiliar household and claim the high ground so quickly." Charles wrapped his arm around Elsie's waist and drew her in to his side. "But, don't you worry, my lass. I'm going to work with you tomorrow, and we will get this sorted, even if I have to box Thomas around the ears to knock some sense in to him." Charles clenched and unclenched his jaw several times, breathing heavily through his nose and mouth, his anger mounting the more he thought on it.

"Charlie, don't get yourself so worked up. We will go in tomorrow and see what needs doing."

"For him to allow that man to speak to you in that matter, Elsie, is completely unacceptable. He is supposedly in charge of that household, responsible for the protection of everyone under its roof, and yet he allowed a stranger … an outsider … to come in and verbally undermine you, order about the staff, and basically hand over the reins. If he was that much out of his depth, he should have phoned me at the cottage. As it is, he's set the wrong sort of tone for this visit and Downton Abbey will look like a laughing stock if word of this incident is circulated among more prominent circles."

"Is that what you're concerned about, Charles Carson, the reputation of the household among those listed in Burke's Peerage?" She felt a little bit of her anger bubbling just below the surface at the thought.

"Yes, and no, quite frankly. We didn't work all these years building up a stellar and spotless reputation for it to be soiled in the course of one day. Thomas is out of his league on this one, and you lacked the support you needed from the butler of the house. I am not implying that you needed my help, or anyone else's … quite the contrary, but that fact that you're sitting here with me watching the swans and not at the house tells me all I need to know."

Her anger was appeased once her loving and overly protective husband explained himself, and she allowed a few quiet moments to pass between them before speaking. "What are you planning to do?"

"I don't know, just yet. We can toss around ideas while we eat, but there is one thing I know for certain."

"What's that, love?"

"I'm going to be the sticky wicket***** of Downton Abbey tomorrow, mark my words on that score!"

Elsie shook her head and tried, very hard, to contain her laughter until her shoulders were shaking and she lost her resolve. "A sticky wicket, you say? I don't know whether to be disgusted, aroused, or confused … my husband, Charlie Carson, the sticky wicket!"

He looked at her in utter confusion before his mind followed her down the proverbial garden path. "Elsie May Carson!"

She threw her hands up in a sign of surrender. "I didn't make that analogy, my darling. YOU said it. I merely know how it sounded to these novice ears. I know it's a cricketing term but out of context, you have to admit it sounds rather …"

"Challenging," he said, finishing the sentence for her. "I'm going to Downton Abbey with you in the morning, and we will get this resolved. If Thomas isn't up to the challenge, I'm sure my livery still fits, and with a few words with His Lordship, I'm sure I can easily take hold of the reins and show this London man how things are typically done at Downton Abbey."

Elsie shifted and knelt between Charles's legs, wrapping her arms around her man and giving him a passionate kiss, leaving them both incredibly breathless and more than a little flustered. "Come along then, my sticky wicket. Let's get you home, fed, and rested. I need you at your best tomorrow if we are going to show these Londoners how things are done."

Charles wrapped his arms around her waist and stretched out on his back bringing her to drape across his body, her face ever so close to his. "We could stay here for a bit longer, if you'd like."

She kissed the tip of his large nose then the little dimple below his chin before giving his lips a playful nip. "I'd rather go home, love. We would be more comfortable, and it's decidedly more private than the pond. We can brainstorm on the way back to the cottage then enjoy the rest of the evening for ourselves. I don't want to end the day talking about that horrid man or any of the rest of it."

"Very well, Mrs. Carson. Far be it from this butler to go against the housekeeper's wishes. I do wish you'd phoned me earlier today. I would have come over straight away, weeding be damned."

She stood and held out her hand for him, helping him to his feet as they started their journey back to the cottage. "Honestly, sweetheart, there wasn't time. Everything happened so quickly, moving from one problem to the next, trying to counsel Thomas and him not listening to anyone, keeping Mrs. Patmore under control, and retaining my own temper. It wasn't until I was on my way home to you that I started to really comprehend everything that was happening and how differently things would have been had you been there to oversee the running of things."

"I won't say tomorrow will be any easier, love. Thomas and this other butler may not heed a word I have to say, but I do have His Lordship's ear, and for the sake of Downton Abbey, I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage."

Elsie gave a hearty laugh. "And if all else fails, we do have one ace up our sleeves, my little sticky wicket."

Charles pinched her bottom for her cheeky nickname. "And what's that, my little all-rounder*****?"

"We have THE BLESSED LADY MARY, who happens to think my favorite butler hung the moon and stars just for her."

He could only shake his head and grin. "Let's hope we don't have to get her involved, or the Dowager Countess for that matter."

"Ohhh, I'd forgotten about her." She threw her shoulders back and walked with a new spring to her step. "I'd say tomorrow is looking rather good for this old housekeeper. It's "bring your husband to work day," and I have the best husband in the world."

He dropped a kiss to her temple and felt a burst of pride bubbling in his chest at her compliment. "Let's not count our victories just yet. If this man is as obstinate as you say, he won't give in quietly or quickly."

"Doubtful, true, but he doesn't have the love and support of the famous Scottish dragon, or the entire staff of the household. We're not asking you to work a miracle, Charlie, simply come stand with us tomorrow … to be on our side. It will give everyone a sense of calm, myself included, and at least they'll know that there's someone willing to stand up for them, even if they end up having to do the bidding of the London staff. At least it will be for a good reason."

His stomach chose that moment to give a loud grumble, and he patted his round belly. "I wonder how amenable Mrs. Patmore would be to baking an apple tart for me tomorrow, or a rhubarb crumble?"

"Get away with you! You pull this off, and I'll see that you're much too tired to even care about lifting a fork of either pudding to your lips," she said with a cheeky grin.

"Mmmm, imagine it, Elsie. A warm crumble and an evening of …"

"Yes, I'm well aware of what the evening will bring. If you play your game right, you might just score a run or two, if you're up to batting."

"I love a housekeeper who can confront a difficult situation and then come home to her personal butler and play a rousing game of … cricket … is that what we're calling it?"

Elsie looped her arm through his and gave him a tight squeeze as the burdens of the day fell from her shoulders and landed on the pathway behind them. Regardless of what happened the following day, they would face it together, would stare it down with their most trusted colleagues and friends. But all of that paled in comparison to the knowledge that at the end of each and every day, she had the love and support of a truly good man, his respect and admiration, and he would always be on her side.

**The End**

**If you're unfamiliar with cricket terms:

\- **sticky wicket:** term used to describe the circumstances when a damp or soft pitch creates issues with the playing of the game. It can also be used as a metaphor to describe a difficult situation or set of circumstances.

\- **all-rounder:** a player who is really good at both batting and bowling in the game

**A/N:** It's been a while since I've felt the urge and courage to write anything, so I would ask for your patience as I dip my toes back in the fanfic waters. Massive hugs and thanks to Csota for her constant encouragement and love. She talks me through the doubt, and reminds me that I am my own worst critic (which is something I need to hear). With that being said, I hope you have enjoyed this little adventure, and I'd love to hear from you. xoxo


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